Bucket of pingpong balls balanced on top of the door.

When we moved from Virginia, the gov't put us in a hotel for 4 days so the movers could pack us out and the house could be cleaned, but the cat couldn't stay in the hotel. So we left him at the house, since we were there for many hours every day finalizing stuff.

We got there the morning after the last of our stuff was gone, and the realtor was there! With people! We were like, "WTF?!? You aren't supposed to start showing this until next week!" We hadn't even told anyone we WEREN'T staying there. We could've still been in bed.

The realtor didn't apologize...in fact, he made it much worse. Much, much worse.

"Oh! You're the occupants! Is that your cat? I was just about to call the shelter and have it picked up."

I went apeshit.

Now, yes, I was pregnant and stressed and not the most stable I'd even been, but this smarmy schmuck was threatening MY KITTY when he wasn't even supposed to be in the fucking house. The people with him took one look at my face and fled. Robert tried to get me away from the guy before I physically assaulted him. I literally couldn't even talk for a couple minutes.

But when I could talk, boy did his boss get an earful.

In conclusion, I hope Toto bites her.

Happy b-day Hec!!

t points to tagline and cries and cries

The second place I lived in New Orleans, we had a roommate. He got a job in Houston and moved out abot a month or so before our lease was up, so while we finished up the lease by ourselves we found a tiny and chap place to move to and leisurely moved our stuff in.

One evening we are in our bedroom watching TV and here someone come in the door. We fearfully creep out to the kitchen trying to think what we can use as a weapon, to see the apt. managers assistant coming in with prospective tenants to show the place. "Oh," he says "I thought you had moved out already". The furniture still being there and the rent being paid hadn't tipped them off, I guess.

It was probably an honest misunderstanding, becuase they were nothing if not incompetent and confused, but it still makes me angry.

We moved into a great place when I was pregnant with Jake -- only to find out the landlord was a complete psycho. Real knuckle-dragger type, with a scuzzy, lecherous smile. Had grown up there, or somesuch, and viewed any apartment in the four-unit building as his. As in, for always, no matter who was renting it. He never even knocked -- he'd just use his key and just come on in. Once I *was* in the shower. (And three months pregnant, hormonal, and beginning to be hysterical.)

We moved out after only seven weeks.

::swoops in, grabs Sail, makes out, swoops away::

Oh, AmyLiz, I can't even imagine! How awful.

Oh, AmyLiz, I can't even imagine! How awful.

He was off-the-charts weird. But we found an even greater place, and were there for four years, so it all worked out.

::sits back to watch ChiKat and Sail make out::

My first apartment ever - I was 22, fresh out of college, just moved to DC - was in a large-ish building. One evening I was in the bathroom and thought I heard the door rattling. Not unusual - when the people across the hall opened and closed their door, mine tended to shift in the frame. When I went into the main room I discovered that the door had been unlocked and pushed open, stopped only by the chain lock. My lease was about up and I moved out when it was over. I later discovered that some building employees were using their keys to get into apartments and raping women who lived there. A lucky escape for me!

Chain lock sounds good. as does naked. or baking -- with flour across the kitchen. As does speaking so sweetly to the possible new occupants( instead of evil agents) - so sorry, I have to get ready for work , I really think you'd like the palce , but I have to shower now... hope you can come back and see it...

happy birthday to Deb , Nic and David.

what a good birthday month.